Kayla’S Dream

By Xlibris US

Kayla Grisholm is a 22 year old fourth year, bright and witty Information and Media Studies student looking forward to a promising career as a radio announcer. She yearns for people to see Kayla first, and not her purple sports wheelchair or the Dynavox Speech Synthesizer that she uses to cover up her speech impediment. She dreams of Jerome.

Track and field star Jerome Carter, hot, sexy and athletic; a fourth year Engineering student is her best friend. Why he doesnt see her for who she really is boggles her mind. Shes loved him since the first day they met.

Radio broadcasting director, Marc Sanderson - geeky, yet brilliant, able to design or modify anything that will make Kaylas life easier - secretly loves her. He has never seen her disability; he doesnt hear her speech impediment. He hears music from her lips.

But Jerome has a past of his own. And when the past meets the present, Kayla is crushed and Marc quickly steps in to help her pick up the pieces.

A near drowning, a near-death emergency surgery, and a crushing event in Punta Cana are about all that Kayla can take in her last year of university. It is a year of love, fun, passion, joy and heartache. It is a year of sharing each others dreams perhaps none of them greater than Kaylas Dream.

This romance novel allows the reader to experience adventures and setbacks from the perspective of a young woman born with cerebral palsy. Kayla is beautiful, funny, and loves life. She embraces challenging adventures with her friends, despite her physical limitations. She is determined and resilient and will stop at nothing to fulfill her dreams. She will stop at nothing until she has Jerome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499059465

Book preview

Chapter 1

Kayla was in the lead, only by a fraction of a second. The crowd was screaming and chanting. She could hear her grandmother’s voice from the bleachers, Run, Kayla, run! She stretched her stride as far as she could humanly go, leaned forward, and reached for the yellow ribbon. Just one more stride and she’d be the winner.

Faster, Kayla, faster! her grandmother yelled at the top of her lungs. You can do it!

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep …

Kayla jumped clear out of her skin. Oh my God, this is the fourth time that I’ve had this dream. Honestly, next time, I’m going to cross that finish line even if I have to hit that snooze button ten times. Her clock read 6:45, and she knew she had to hustle to make it to the University of Western Ontario radio broadcasting building on time.

Hey, Western Mustang fans! I’m toning down this morning’s broadcast a couple of decibels for all you students who are way too hung over from last night’s Rush concert. Well, guys, if we’re going to maintain our hard-to-beat reputation for being the best party university in all of Ontario during our homecoming week, then we need to buck up, throw up, take some Tums, do whatever it takes to get our butts off to class because Western can’t be beat! You guys are the best party animals ever!

Kayla carried on for the next ten minutes with the weather, news highlights, and what she was famous for—her smile-of-the-day jokes.

"On the lighter side, here’s your smile for the day. I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid. He says he can stop anytime. This is KG signing off with another tune from Rush called ‘Closer to Your Heart’ on CHRW 94.9 FM radio."

Marc nodded his head in approval. That was an amazing broadcast this morning! You’ve totally impressed the whole campus. I actually saw groups of students stop in their tracks howling at your jokes. Where do you come up with all of your one-liners? I gotta say, you’re definitely a hot radio announcer.

Ah, thanks, Marc, I owe it all to you.

Her eyes gleamed as she smiled at him and thought back to their first encounter. She had met Marc in an engineering class in first year university. Both he and her high school friend Jerome were in that class as well. They were both disciplined gym rats who routinely worked out after class every day.

Your voice sounded really off today, KG, Marc pointed out as he grabbed his screw driver and took off the back of the voice synthesizer. Let me adjust the pace and volume of your sweet-talkin’ machine. Maybe I can speed up the output. Worth a try, right? He mumbled as he zoned in on his task to fix her voice-output system.

Marc was a geeky guy, too thin for his own good, but very cute. She remembered being attracted to his rather thin physique and his long shoulder-length dark-brown hair. It was the wire-rimmed glasses that magnified his deep blue eyes that also caught her attention. Yet, there was no chemistry between them right from the beginning. Perhaps he was gay or just not interested in her, like every other guy that seemed to come and go during her high school and university years.

He was a genius. He spent most of his spare time inventing gadgets, electronic devices, and techy things made from old cell phones, computers, and basically anything he could get his hands on. He knew how to swing a hammer and use a mitre saw as well. That was evident when she first went over to his apartment with a group of students. He had picked up used furniture at a garage sale that should have been laid to rest years ago. Within a couple of weeks, he had resurrected the pieces into professionally designed end tables for the living room and bedroom. In her mind, he was Mr. Engineer Extraordinaire.

You know that I could never have been the campus spokesperson on air if it weren’t for you. I’ll owe you big time for the rest of my days. She was forever grateful for his ingenuity when it came to her Dynavox voice synthesizer.

He put down the screwdriver, nodding in self-approval.

I think it’s crazy that no one on this entire campus is aware that you are ‘KG,’ our radio announcer. He tilted his head and gave her a sly wink.

Even my best friends, Amy and Jerome, have no idea that it’s me sitting in this booth every morning bringing them all the highlights. Please don’t say anything to anyone, Marc. I need you to swear that you won’t tell anyone that it’s me. The students won’t understand. Once they know it’s me back here, they’ll only listen to my show because they feel sorry for me. I just can’t deal with that kind of pity.

Kayla felt embarrassed that her speech was so very slow and halting. She was thankful that Marc was mature enough not to become frustrated when she spoke. He always gave her his undivided attention and the extra time that she needed to process what she wanted to say and actually verbalize her thoughts.

She had been seeing a speech therapist since she was six years old. Her pronunciation had improved considerably given that she used to sound like she was talking with a mouth full of marbles. At least now, if she spoke slowly, people could understand most of what she was saying.

Her Dynavox speech magic box, as she liked to think of it as, was exactly what she needed when she spoke professionally. The system somehow produced clarity to her voice, reducing the harsh breathy inhalation sound. All in all, no one recognized Kayla Grisholm at the end of the microphone. At this point in her student career, she was happy to be able to disguise her voice. People’s initial reaction to the quality of her pitch and the raspy sound of her words was disappointing, to say the least. She could see in their facial expressions that they immediately thought she was also cognitively impaired. She would then have to defend her reputation by saying something intelligent so that they would realize the speech impediment did not equal a low IQ.

Marc walked over to her, locked the brakes on her sports wheelchair, bent down to her eye level, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Kayla, you know your secret’s safe with me. I know it’s hard for you to have to deal with your speech issues above everything else. But you’re so bright and intelligent. You rock in engineering four-hundred and you rock in our information-and-media-studies class. Didn’t you have the highest marks in engineering last term?

Uh-haa. Beat you by ten marks. She grinned as she recalled their bet as to who would ace the final term exam.

Just because you talk as slow as molasses doesn’t mean you’re dumb.

Thanks for nothing, Marc. Really appreciate your amazing understanding. She shot him an if looks could kill glare that caught him by surprise.

No no no! Ah … that didn’t come out right. I meant to say that you talk really slow, but you’re as bright as anyone in our Geek Club.

She wheeled her custom-designed purple sports hemi-wheelchair over to the radio-booth counter. She looked at the Dynavox voice synthesizer that he had programmed for her last year. She ran her fingers slowly across the controls and began to speak softly, Marc, how will I ever be able to pay you back for this? No one can tell that I have a speech problem when I talk through this device.

"If you keep coming up with great hits, great tunes, and you keep up your witty, one-of-a-kind jokes, and … if you save a kiss or two for me, I’ll keep your secret forever."

She rolled her eyes at the thought of kissing him; she knew that he was only kidding her. He had never made a romantic move on her since they met four years ago in Engineering 101. Of all the opportunities that he had with her alone in the radio booth each morning for the last year, he had never so much as made one single gesture of intimacy, nothing more than the odd hug or two on a Monday morning, welcoming her back to the grind. She was positive it was her physical appearance. At least she thought that must be the reason why he kept his distance.

At this point in her life, though, Kayla had made the decision that she didn’t want to endure any more surgical procedures to try and reduce the tightness in the muscles on the left side of her body. Her orthopedic surgeon had suggested she have the muscles behind her left knee and inside her left thigh lengthened and perhaps try to get more length from the tendons behind her ankle by repeating that surgical procedure as well. And, while they were at it, they thought it would be a great idea to lengthen the tendons that pulled her thumb across the palm of her hand and maybe also lengthen the muscles that ran under her wrist and fingers. She knew it would be more pleasing to the eye if she went through the surgeries that the doctors were recommending. She also knew that it wouldn’t improve her functional ability in her left arm or hand or leg for that matter. She might be able to take some weight through that leg when she transferred out of her wheelchair, if she at least consented to have the hamstring muscles behind her knees done. In the long run she decided that she would miss too much of her last year in university if she went through with multiple surgeries. She didn’t want to lose her position as morning radio announcer for Western either. And she certainly didn’t want to repeat any courses in the summer semester as she would not have enough credits to graduate with her friends.

No, she had made up her mind that even if all the men on campus did not find her attractive, so be it. After all, she had an excuse for how she looked. She wore the label cerebral palsy.

She placed her navy blue leather glove on her lap and slid her right hand into it. She wheeled her chair over to the door and opened it a crack. A few students were making their way to class in the opposite direction. She turned towards Marc, blew him a kiss, and quickly wheeled out into the hallway. Moments later, she was part of the buzz in the courtyard, students hustling to and fro to get to their early morning classes. No one was the wiser that she was Western’s announcer, Kayla Grisham, twenty-two-year-old fourth-year student majoring in information and media studies and minoring in engineering—beautiful blonde haired, blue-eyed Kayla. Stuck in a wheelchair for life.

Kayla wheeled towards the usual meeting place next to Starbucks, looking for her best friends Amy Moore and Jerome Carter. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. Only five more minutes before their first class was about to start.

Shit, if they’re blowing class off this morning and didn’t text me, I’ll be furious, she thought. Just as she started to text Amy, she heard Jerome and her laughing hysterically as they bolted around the corner.

Hey, Amy, Jerome. I thought I missed you guys this morning. Did you by any chance bring me a coffee? Two creams, one sugar, or do I have to wheel over to Starbucks myself?

Amy gave her a sly wink, brought her hand out from behind her back, and offered Kayla her morning coffee.

Thanks, you’re the best. Kayla smiled.

Amy had been Kayla’s best friend all though grade school, high school, and university. Somehow Amy and she were soul mates from the first time they played together nearly fifteen years ago.

Kayla, her parents, and her grandmother had moved into a beautiful bungalow right next door to Amy. While her parents were unloading the moving truck, Amy walked over to the driveway, peeked into their family station wagon, and saw Kayla sitting in the back seat. She was all of seven years old. Amy had gone over to ask if she wanted to play in her backyard while her parents moved the furniture inside. When Amy looked into the back of the station wagon, she saw a wheelchair. Kayla recalled Amy staring at the chair and asking her what it was. Kayla told her it was her extra legs. She said she was waiting for her mother to take the chair out so that she could wheel around the new backyard. Amy had smiled at her and said, That’s so cool, what’s your name?

Kayla thought back to those early days when she had been upset about moving away from her little friends. She was afraid that no one would want to play with her because she couldn’t walk and her speech was so slow. Yet Amy wasn’t turned off by the wheelchair or her stammering speech. She seemed to be intrigued with it. She asked Kayla why she needed the chair, and she remembered saying that she had cerebral palsy. Amy just smiled and asked her if she wanted to play anyway. They were instant soul mates. Amy, at the little age of seven years, was not concerned in the least that she had to wait and listen carefully to what her new friend was saying. Her speech was so garbled back in those days. She would wait patiently as Kayla would carefully select her words to tell her new friend a story. Amy had a way of knowing what she was going to say before she even had the words out of her mouth. Kindred spirits right from the start.

Are we going to hit Mr. Gino’s engineering class or do we want to skip today? Amy questioned with a yawn.

Jerome looked at his watch and started to run ahead, Come on you two, no skipping today. Our project has to be handed in this morning or we lose marks.

As Jerome ran ahead, Kayla pictured him running slow motion in a shiny pair of black spandex biking shorts. He had his twenty-third birthday last month, and although Kayla had known him through high school and all of university, she had never gotten over how extremely hot he was. He was originally from Scottsdale, Arizona, and had come up to Canada when he was seventeen years old. He had never shared the reason why he was uprooted from his home there or why his parents decided to get work visas for Canada in the summer of 2005. He had been quite vague about his Southern-desert heritage and rarely spoke about the rest of his family in Phoenix.

Jerome enjoyed his daily workouts. Kayla was thankful because he always looked pumped—firm biceps, a well sculpted chest, and a taut stomach. He tanned to an olive color in the summer months. She loved the way his skin glowed in the sunlight when he ran, the way sweat droplets would cascade down the middle of his tank top. Jerome’s broad shoulders and well-developed neck made him look more like a wrestler than a runner. Or perhaps more like a sculpted Olympic swimmer. She wasn’t sure. At any rate, she loved to watch him run. His brown hair, styled with a hint of hair gel, framed his facial features, accentuating his hazel eyes, chiseled jawline and confident smile. He took her breath away. He always had. She couldn’t decide whether it was his firm pecs, his six-pack abs, or whether, in fact, it was his piston-like thighs that rippled when he sprinted that caught her eye. Or whether it was his contagious smile, vibrant personality, and his sexy style all rolled into one. At any rate, whenever she watched him run, she would just heave a sigh and smile, all the while wondering if he would ever look at her the way she looked at him.

Amy yelled at Jerome, We’re coming, we’re coming, save us a seat in the back row!

She picked up the pace, and Kayla drank her last gulp of coffee, tossed her cup into the recycle bin, and wheeled her chair alongside Amy as fast as she could. They didn’t want to be late again, since the prof frowned on latecomers.

Amy’s waist-long auburn hair blew wildly around her face in the brisk breeze as she ran alongside Kayla. She had told Kayla back in grade nine that she decided she would grow it out for seven years to see how long it would get.

Not fair that your legs are as long as a giraffe’s! Kayla yelled at her as she tried to keep pace with her friend.

She loved Amy but was slightly envious of her great looks—that tall thin figure that resembled a Vogue magazine model, tiny breasts, tiny hips, and long endless legs. She envied Amy for her ability to eat like a football player and remain looking so sweet with no effort whatsoever. Amy looked great in any outfit she wore. Whether she had on her skin-tight black Lululemon spandex tights and a deep purple Western V-neck sweater or her faded blue Old Navy straight-leg blue jeans sported with her extra small red tank top, it didn’t matter. She always looked hot and innocently sexy.

Wait up, my friend. You’re killing me! Kayla yelled as she grabbed the rim of her wheel and pushed as hard as she could to gain speed. My arm’s breaking here, you know.

Kayla secretly wished her soul and spirit had been given the opportunity to hang out in a normal body while she resided on the earth. She knew that she was very beautiful. Her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair that was styled in a layered bob with full bangs always got compliments. She loved her long black eyelashes that she meticulously curled with her Liz Claiborne eyelash curler every morning before class. She was aware that her large firm breasts were slightly big for her frame, but given that she had other areas of her body that she was not as happy with, she considered herself fortunate to look fabulous from the waist up.

Amy was gasping for air as they approached the classroom. She pulled out her Ventolin puffer and inhaled a long deep sustained breath. She shook the Ventolin inhaler again and took one more deep breath and held it in till her cheeks turned red.

That’s better. God, this asthma can get in the way sometimes. She laughed as she leaned her butt against the wall, bent over with her head down by her knees.

Give me a minute before we go in, I have to catch my breath. Okay, I’m ready. Amy stood back up, flipped her hair back into place, and opened the door for Kayla.

Jerome saved seats at the back of the lecture hall so that she could park her wheelchair beside his aisle seat and Amy could sit on his left. As the prof began to show his PowerPoint presentation of floor plans for a complex bridge construction, Amy scribbled some words on a small piece of paper and folded it into a tiny ball. She nudged Jerome on the arm and slid the note into his hand. She pointed at Kayla and whispered into his ear, Jerome, will you please pass this to Kayla, thanks.

Jerome leaned over, softly grabbed Kayla’s right hand, opened her fingers, and gently placed the note in her hand. She felt his warm breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear. Kayla, Amy wants you to read this.

He grinned and winked and closed her fist around the note with his warm fingers. Shhhh! You two are way too loud. He chuckled and turned back to the front of the class as he continued to listen intently to the lecture.

Kayla quickly unraveled the paper, wondering what joke Amy had written this time. Her breath caught in her throat when she read the words, I’m thinking of making a play for Jerome this week. He might have a thing for me and it’s time I find out if he’s just a good friend or boyfriend material. Let’s talk after class.

Kayla froze, not knowing what to think. Her best friend since grade two, who had never outwardly shown any sign of falling for Jerome, decided out of the blue to get the hots for him. She started to panic. She tried to sit in her wheelchair and pretended to listen to the prof. Her mind raced in every direction other than engineering bridge designs. She felt like she might collapse any minute. What was wrong with her? Why was she reacting so strongly? She wanted to continue to take notes like she would in any other class, but she couldn’t concentrate. She needed air, quick. If only Jerome wouldn’t notice, she could bolt out of the class and wheel as far as she could from the engineering building to her favorite meditation spot by the bridge going over the creek. She just wanted to be alone and cry.

Instead, she took out her red pen, drew a red heart around Amy’s note and in small letters wrote, Nice one, Amy, great joke. Since when have you had the hots for Jerome? Deep down in her heart, she hoped that Amy really was joking. Unfortunately, she also knew that Amy never joked like that, ever.

She squished the note back in a ball, tapped him on the arm, and placed the note in his hand, closed his fingers around it, and whispered back, Jerome, can you pass this note back to Amy?

He took the note and passed it back and shrugged his shoulders. You girls are too much.

The prof dimmed the front-row lights to show more PowerPoint slides. Amy read Kayla’s reply and leaned back in her chair to speak directly to her friend behind his back. No really, I’m serious.

She crossed both fists over her chest and rubbed her heart. I think I have feelings for him. Will you help me?

Sure, Amy, she whispered and nodded her head. What else could she say? She knew she had missed the boat and had waited too long to make a play for him. Now she had her work cut out for her. Her heart raced uncontrollably, making her feel weak and out of control. She had to calm herself down. The Spoke pub on campus—that’s where she would go after her last class. Beer therapy was definitely in order.

Chapter 2

As soon as classes were done for the day, Kayla quickly made her way to The Spoke. She rolled to the front door and pushed the auto-door opener and looked for an empty area near the bar where she could park her chair and order something cold. The Spoke was famous for its international beers. She ordered a Red Stripe Jamaican beer with two candied cherries. Glaring eyes were on her, or so she thought, watching as she ordered a beer and made it disappear in no time flat. She didn’t care about the other students. She had a lot of thinking to do. How was she going to deal with her best friend’s request? How was she going to give up Jerome? She didn’t want to lose her best girlfriend, yet she certainly wasn’t prepared to give up her dream of being with him. She ordered two more bottles of Jamaican